


the mark of an adventurer

by dancer4813



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign Crossover, Critical Role Relationship Week, Day 2, Don't worry too much about the semantics of resurrection rituals, Fjord is dead except not, Gen, That in-between moment - you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 10:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14975000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancer4813/pseuds/dancer4813
Summary: Vax has seen many people pass through the Raven Queen's domain in his time there, but he always takes a particular interest in those who find themselves visiting time and time again.





	the mark of an adventurer

“You must be an adventurer,” Fjord hears as he startles awake in a sea of black nothingness around him. He scrambles to his feet, looking for the source of the voice, and sees part of the black disengage from the rest, stepping forward into a non-existent light. A half-elven figure, pale against the darkness, the only color on him the beads strung on one side of his face and the faint purple shimmer of the feathers across his breastplate as he shifts and they catch the light.

“I’m sorry?” Fjord asks, too discombobulated to retain his drawl, but he doesn’t know this man as it is – there’s nothing to be gained by pretending. 

“You’ve been here before,” the man says, quirking his head slightly. “A while ago, but not so long ago that I’ve forgotten. “Someone, or something, pulled you away, but for a moment… you were on death’s door.”

There’s a beat of silence before he sniggers, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, and Fjord is even more confused than he was upon waking in this strange place. 

“Sorry,” the man murmurs, chuckling. “I’ve been here for a good while now, but you’ve got to do something to make the job interesting, you know? My Queen thinks it’s ridiculous, but tolerates it, especially since you won’t remember this if your friends succeed.”

“Your Queen?” Fjord asks, folding his arms across his chest and suddenly realizing his lack of armor, lack of weapons, lack of… anything beyond his body. “Hang on, my friends? What’s going on; where am I?”

He sends a hand out to conjure his Falchion – it has never failed to come when called – but his fingers close around empty air and he mentally recoils at the thought, returning to staring daggers at the man in front of him, who suddenly looks far more somber. 

“My apologies,” he says with a slight bowing of his head. “I’m sure you’re very confused. Even with as much practice as I’ve had I’ve not got a smooth spiel down quite yet. Long story short, you’re on the brink of death, in the in-between.”

“I’m dead?” asks Fjord, never one to dance around the point, and he feels a coldness settle in his chest, almost like a sad sort of acceptance instead of fear. 

“Not quite yet,” the man murmurs, eyes shifting from Fjord’s face to a distant point behind him. “Not that those wraiths didn’t try their best – we nearly had some of your friends show up as well.”

“Who?” Fjord asks urgently. “Wait, did they get out safely?” 

He suddenly remembers the abandoned vault they’d been scouting, and the way they’d been ambushed by ghostly figures on all sides. They’d struggled to cut down the wraiths, and though Fjord’s sword had sliced through them, they’d seemed to take him as the primary threat and he hadn’t been able to fend them off. 

“The Material Plane is fuzzy…” the other man hums, trailing off, still looking beyond Fjord.

He turns around to see what the man is looking at, but only sees a faint flicker of gold, like a loose thread dangling from Molly’s coat caught in the wind. 

“They did away with the wraiths; I know that much,” the man says decisively after another moment. “And you’re the only one who showed up here. They should be safe. Don’t worry.”

Fjord releases a relived breath at the news.

“Granted, I think they might be calling you back sooner rather than later,” the man murmurs, nodding his chin toward whatever he’s looking at beyond Fjord. 

He turns again, seeing the golden thread start to pulse. He hears Jester’s broken voice, clearly thick with tears, as she chants the incantation of a spell. It feels like he’s sucked up into the air for a moment, a sense of vertigo overcoming him as she continues, voice getting stronger as she presses on.

“You do want to go back, yes?” the man asks, drawing Fjord’s attention back to him. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The man shrugs, though he looks, suddenly, much older. Fjord could also swear that his appearance didn’t change at all, but suddenly the man seems to revert back to his relatively youthful self, shrugging casually. 

“No reason.” 

“…Sure.” 

They stand for a moment, staring at one another, Jester’s voice filling the space around them, before the man rolls his shoulders. 

“Well, I really should be on my way, if you don’t need anymore help,” he says, giving a small salute to Fjord. “Plenty more souls to see, you know.”

“Is that what I am right now? A soul?”

The man looks amused by the question. “I mean, I guess? I don’t really know though, I just know that your soul is what moves on, or what comes back, whichever you decide to choose.”

“Interesting,” Fjord murmurs, and it is, but he also, suddenly, doesn’t want to be left alone in whatever this place is. “Um, if you wouldn’t mind me asking, who are you?”

The man grins at that. “So polite, that’s very good to hear. And I’m the right-hand to the Matron of Ravens – that is what you call her in Wildmount, yes? Her Champion, at your service.”

“It- it is, but do you have a name?” Fjord finds himself asking, Jester’s words still echoing from behind him. “Were you ever alive?”

The man’s grin falters, and he sighs, brow furrowing together in a sad sort of way, his smile falling into something more suited to nostalgia. “I was, once. But that was a long while ago, and no time at all. It’s a bit of a long story, to be honest.”

“And you died?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” the man asks, gesturing to the void around them with a faint chuckle. “Though, to be perfectly honest, that’s a difficult question. I nearly died a few times, then my sister died, then I helped bring her back, then I died except didn’t a couple times, and then I did die, but in serving my Lady I was able to help my friends before passing on, before coming to rest here.”

Fjord’s not sure what he was expecting for an answer, but knows it wasn’t the answer given to him. “That… certainly sounds like an adventure.” 

“It was,” the man says with a nod, eyes trailing back to the thread behind Fjord. “There’s a reason I could tell you were an adventurer.”

He lingers for a moment longer before beginning to edge away. “I really should leave you with them – you’ll want to hear what your friends have to say,” he says, then seems to reconsider something, and steps back to Fjord, lifting a hand to place it on Fjord’s shoulder. The touch is cool, like a sea breeze coming off the waves after being below the deck for a few hours. “Best of luck, with the adventuring. Hopefully I won’t be seeing you again for a while.” 

Fjord nods, and the man gives a nod in return, lifting his hand and turning to go. 

“What’s your name?” Fjord finds himself asking again, making the man pause and look back at Fjord over his shoulder.

“What’s it to you?”

“Common courtesy?”

The man laughs, loud and full, filling the emptiness for a moment and falling silent after that. “You have been exceedingly polite, I’ll give you that,” he says. “And, I suppose, you won’t remember this anyway. Well, unless we meet again.”

Fjord looks at him expectantly, even as he feels Jester’s words shift somehow, the pulling in his gut growing stronger. 

The man chuckles again. “My name’s Vax. With an “a”, not an “e”. Very important distinction.”

“Vax,” Fjord says, the name unfamiliar on his tongue. He’d think the Champion of a goddess would have a more ostentatious name, though he supposes it does fit in its own way. “Well, very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” Vax says, inclining his head one last time before turning away. “Have a good life!” he calls over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought. 

“Thanks!” Fjord calls back with a chuckle as Vax vanishes into the darkness, blending in until Fjord can only see the colorful beads in his hair sway with each step, then those disappear as well. 

He turns back to the thread behind him, which he suddenly realizes is his own – his life laid out before him, stretching off into the darkness.

Jester’s voice suddenly finishes its chant, and there’s a pregnant pause when nothing happens before she says, “anyone who wants to go first can give the offering to the ritual, but I want to give something, and to go last. So… save me a spot, yes?” 

Fjord can’t hear an answer, but takes a step toward the thread as if by getting closer he might be able to hear them better. 

He’s surprised when the next words he hears are from Beauregard, but he feels a warmth at his chest, like a hand resting over his heart, and he knows that he’ll be heading back to his friends soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Day two is up just a little late - my body decided that from 10pm-2am was a good time to take a nap - but here it is! I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> The headcanon that Vax makes a point to greet any adventurers or would-be-adventurers when they start passing through is one that I'll not be giving up anytime soon. 
> 
> Schedule-willing I'll be posting Day 3 on time tomorrow - look out for some sweet Allura & Calianna fic. And, as always, you can join me on tumblr at [dancerwrites](https://dancerwrites.tumblr.com/), where I'll also be posting all of these fics. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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